


Meddling Ninjas and Their Ninja Dog Too

by cunning_wreck, serendipitousDescent



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, M/M, Matchmaking, Meddling, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 00:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11047374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cunning_wreck/pseuds/cunning_wreck, https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitousDescent/pseuds/serendipitousDescent
Summary: Temari, the ever-concerned older sister, convinces Shikamaru that they should play match-maker with Kankuro and Kiba. This results in a joint mission between Suna and Konoha, many shenanigans, wet clothes, and happy endings for everyone.





	1. "Oh god, can you imagine the two of them together?"

“Kibamaru.”

“Kiba.” 

Mirai frowns up at Kiba, her mouth set in confusion. “Akaba.” 

“Kiba,” he corrects again, his grin briefly faltering. “My name is Kiba. Akamaru is outside at the moment, because your mom has something against big, adorable puppies.” 

Shikamaru snorts from the other side of the room, and Temari can’t really blame him. Judging by the exasperation written across Kurenai’s face, it looks like this argument is a well-worn one. For some reason, it reminds her of how Kankuro reacts when Gaara tells him to stop carrying his puppets around the village. Nobody wants to be surrounded by those things all the time. At least, no one who isn’t Kankuro. 

“I have nothing against Akamaru,” Kurenai says, dully. “But he certainly isn’t a puppy anymore either, and I would like to be able to walk around my own house.”

Mirai blinks up at Kiba, frowning slightly. “No puppy?” 

Kiba shakes his head and reaches down to ruffle her hair. “We can take him for a walk later. As long as your mom agrees, that is?” Mirai squeals in excitement and latches onto his leg. Even Temari has to admit the brat is pretty cute.

“Will you come with us, Shikamaru-niisan?” Temari glances over to where Shikamaru is leaning against the kitchen doorframe, somehow managing to look like he just woke up, because he’s barely even moved once over the last hour. 

“Dog walks with Kiba and Akamaru are normally a drag, but just this once, I’ll make an exception for you, Mirai.” She dazzles them with a smile and runs across the room, leaping into Shikamaru’s arms. Good thing he has quick reflexes despite the half-dead expression on his face.

What is perhaps more interesting, is that there’s the faintest hint of surprise in Kiba’s face before he relaxes back into his grin. “Well, if that’s the way you’re going to talk about me and Akamaru, maybe you just won’t be invited.” 

Mirai swivels around, one arm still hanging onto Shikamaru. “But, Kimaru!” 

“It’s fine,” Temari says, cutting in for the first time. “Shikamaru and I have to go talk to Naruto about some small contracts along the border.”

“Ah,” Kiba says, his grin melting into a smirk. “Talking with Naruto. Right. And it totally isn’t an excuse to leave for one of your ‘not-dates’?” 

Shikamaru snorts at Kiba, but Temari stares daggers at him. That’s exactly what Kankuro had called her meetings with Shikamaru before she left for Konoha. But then she got to wipe that smile off his face with one swift, satisfying punch.

“C’mon, you have to admit, there’s something going on between-”

Kurenai clears her throat, purposely. “So, Kiba, have _you_ gone out on any dates recently? I know you had been talking to that cashier at the weapons store a lot, a while ago.” 

“I-” Kiba cuts himself off, his nose scrunching up in distaste. “That was never a thing, Kurenai-sensei. They just have really good shuriken there, a lot better than the place you normally go to. Besides, we were talking about Shikamaru and Temari.” 

“And now, we’re talking about you.” 

Kiba rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, and Temari lets out a smug laugh. “You know, if you didn’t already have red painted on your face, I’d say you’re blushing, Kiba.” 

“Well, I guess there hasn’t really been anyone lately. It’s not like I need anyone other than Akamaru, anyways! I’m a bit of a lone wolf, you know. Just me and my dog.” 

The only other thing that cringeworthy she’s heard was Kankuro’s answer when Temari asked him a similar question a few weeks back. He had been all blustery and self-important, right up until he actually answered the question. Then all she had heard was him awkwardly mumbling about how he didn’t need more bodies in the house, given the amount of puppets he has lying around. Naturally, she had called him out on it, but Kankuro had soundly ignored her in typical brotherly fashion.

Sometimes, she really doesn’t know how she’s related to her brothers. It just never quite adds up in her head, even if the logistics do.

Called back to the present by a hand running gently down her arm, Temari glances to see Shikamaru beckoning for them to go. Mirai looks dejected as Shikamaru places her down and pats her head. 

“Sorry, Mirai, Kurenai-sensei, but we have to get going to our meeting.” He rolls his eyes when Kiba audibly coughs “date.”

“No, Shikamaru-niisan! Temari-neesan! You have to stay and play with me.” Mirai looks absolutely determined, her little face scrunched into a pout.

“Sorry, kid,” Shikamaru says as he squats down to be at her eye level. “Temari and I have some important things to take care of today.”

“Like your date,” Kiba coughs again, somehow entirely missing the subtlety of a ninja. 

“Like our important meeting with the Hokage, dog-breath.” Temari sneers at Kiba, trying not to blush. 

Shikamaru straightens up, sighing and mumbling about how bothersome these meetings can be before there’s a loud thud. Mirai smiles up at him from where she’s clinging to his leg, now caught in an iron grasp. 

Temari’s attention is entirely captivated when Shikamaru blinks, his head tilting to the side as he looks down at Mirai. Whatever thoughts he had about the meeting seem to be gone entirely. At least, they have to be with the small smile he gives Mirai, as he slowly kneels back down again.

“Hey,” he says, softly, as he gently pries her hands away from his leg to grasp them in his own. “I really do need to get going, okay?”

“But-” 

“No, not today. I’ll come around later, like I always do, and then maybe we’ll even go on a walk with Kiba and his smelly dog. In the meantime, you’ve got to be a good girl for your mom, otherwise she’s not going to know what to do with you.” 

Mirai pouts, only placated when Shikamaru leans forward to press a kiss against her forehead. Temari has to clear her throat, quickly looking in the opposite direction, her cheeks heating slightly. It had been a bit funny up until that moment, but that isn’t how she expected Shikamaru to react in the slightest. 

Maybe something a bit more blown up or lacking enthusiasm would have been accurate to the picture of him she’s painted in her head. But this makes it too simple to imagine what he would be like with his own child. Not right now, but sometime in the future, where he can pamper them to his heart’s desire and not have to worry about making sure Naruto doesn’t screw something up. It’s sweet enough that she thinks she wants to barf at the domesticity of it all, even if she does feel a fluttering in her chest when she sees Shikamaru crouched down with Mirai.

Something must have happened to her on the way here, like maybe she got hit in the head with a rock and this is all some intense hallucination. Because she’s definitely not feeling all warm and fuzzy about the prospect of Shikamaru as a father. That would be ridiculous.

* * *

As Temari and Shikamaru walk down the street in the direction of Naruto’s office, their hands brush against each other lightly. Temari wishes she could just hold his damn hand, but they’re not exactly being vocal about their relationship. Relations between Suna and Konoha are a lot better since the war ended, even more so since Naruto became Hokage, but she’s still the sister of the Kazekage, and the diplomat between the two villages. 

“You know, Kiba kind of reminds me of Kankuro,” Temari says with a slight smile playing across her lips. 

Shikamaru chuckles and glances over at her. “So, you noticed too, eh?” 

“It wasn’t exactly subtle, asshole,” she says, laughing lightly. “Both of them are a bit obsessive about their interests, have the same stupid sense of humour, are a bit lonely…” 

“Where exactly are you going with this?” 

Temari smirks, doing nothing to hide her intentions with her body language. Both of them know what that means to them as shinobi, given how often their work requires them to hide everything and anything. 

There’s a trickle of a plan flowing through Temari’s head right now, too. It isn’t like she hasn’t told Shikamaru that she wants Kankuro to find someone important to him, someone who would stick around through bad jokes and bad habits alike. Kankuro isn’t like Gaara, completely satisfied by living without someone else constantly at his side. And Kiba seems loyal. And damned if she’ll admit it out loud, but he was even sweet with Mirai. 

Shikamaru groans, sensing exactly where this is going. “Oh god, can you _imagine_ the two of them together?” 

“Trust me, I can.”

“I assume you have some sort of plan in the works up in that big head of yours?” Shikamaru asks, already knowing the answer but looking uncomfortable just the same. Temari suspects he fears someone who can keep up with his strategizing and make even crazier plans of their own. But she also knew that was part of the reason he was attracted to her in the first place. 

“Just leave it to me, Shikamaru.” Temari smiles at him, but he can see the glint of an evil plan in her eyes. “I think we have a new item on the agenda for our meeting with Naruto this afternoon.”


	2. “It’s kind of a drag, but she wants to ‘spend time together’ or something.”

The worst part about coming to the back room is definitely the smell. Shikamaru likes the smell of books, granted, but books smell nothing like the damp, musky, old scrolls that litter the room and is likely a place better left unexplored. Even being Naruto’s assistant, he tries to avoid this place as much as possible.

But when he’s attempting to file documents without Naruto knowing about them, this is the only place he can go. There are extra seals of authenticity hidden back here, along with various types of ink, including the one that Naruto prefers these days. All of that makes it the perfect place to prepare the mission request that him and Temari have carefully thought through. 

Not that his work here will stop Temari from sleepily demanding that he go take a shower, once she gets back from her meetings today. She’s surprisingly sensitive to things smelling off, given that she’s just as much of a shinobi as he is. 

His hand pauses over the paper, and he frowns. Most likely, nobody will take the time to look this over too carefully, but that last kanji definitely looks more like his own writing than Naruto’s. That’s the case for most mission details really, given that Naruto doesn’t have the time to write out every report. But this detail isn’t one he wants traced back to him. There isn’t enough time for him to do anything other than keep going though, not right now.

Shikamaru rubs the back of his head while he works, the small lump reminding him of Temari’s “motivational speech” when she was ushering him over to the administration building. Well, speech being a fist, which really shouldn’t be as appealing as it was. 

Something must be seriously wrong with him. He never did stuff like this before Temari showed up and refused to leave him alone. Before, he would have been perfectly happy to lay in a patch of grass somewhere and watch the clouds roll by. Of course he still does this, but now, Temari will show up out of the blue and punch him to get his attention, demanding he escort her around the village. It’s kind of a drag, but at the same time, he gets all warm and flustered every time he sees her ball her hands into fists. Yes, there is definitely something wrong with him. 

He sighs as he finishes his work, rolling up the scroll. Now, all he has to do is get Naruto to sign off on it without reading it. Hopefully, that won’t be a problem. Maybe Shikamaru will distract him with ramen. Naruto always rushes through his paperwork right before lunch. There’s no motivation like Ichiraku, and Shikamaru has learned to use that during his time as Naruto’s assistant. 

The door creaks open before he gets the chance to move. 

A sleepy-eyed chuunin stands in the doorway, freezing the exact moment that he sees Shikamaru standing there. Three years ago, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Now, he only barely knows the chuunin’s name, nevermind if the chuunin knows that Shikamaru knows his name. Actually, none of this would have been a problem if Shikamaru had just waited until after Naruto went home to use the supplies on his desk, then he wouldn’t be hanging around otherwise empty storage closets. 

“Uh,” the chuunin starts, awkwardly letting the syllable trail off.

Shikamaru sighs and gathers up the paperwork. “Man, I hate coming back here.” 

“I’ve… never seen you back here before?” The chuunin immediately shakes his head. “Nope, nevermind, I don’t want to know.” 

“You don’t?” 

“Knowing isn’t going to help, is it? I mean, you could tell me, but that won’t change anything. Or I could not find out, and just continue on with my life, you know?” the chuunin says, shrugging. 

Shikamaru lets out a low laugh, and claps the chuunin’s shoulder as he walks past, paperwork in hand. “You’re my kind of man, Taro. Remind me when I get back from my mission that I owe you a drink.” 

“Uh, sorry, but that’s not happening. I don’t particularly want to be involved in your crazy jonin shenanigans. Some things just aren’t worth the effort, you know? Least of all what your generation does.” 

“You can’t avoid getting mixed up with things forever,” Shikamaru says easily, reminded of himself at that age. His face scrunches up as he realizes what he just said. Once upon a time, Asuma had probably said the exact same thing to him, and he’d hated it. “Just take my word for it, okay? I learned that the hard way.” 

Shikamaru chuckles as he leaves the chuunin standing in the doorway, staring blankly. Now for the annoying part: getting Naruto to sign this scroll. He strolls up the corridor to Naruto’s office, suddenly wishing he had actually brought ramen to distract him with. This is already taking longer than expected anyways. 

He knocks on the door before entering then stops immediately in his tracks. Temari is perched on Naruto’s desk, her feet dangling off the side, while Naruto leans back in his chair, slurping ramen contentedly. 

“Oh, I was wondering if you were going to show up.” Temari slides off the desk and struts right up to Shikamaru, a devilish grin spreading across her face. The sight gives him chills, but they’re not necessarily bad. His face flushes, and he immediately frowns at her. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were going back to the house.” Temari snorts and winks at him.

“I thought Hokage-sama might be hungry, so I got him some ramen.” Shikamaru hides the corners of his mouth that are reluctantly turning up by looking down at his feet. He sighs dramatically, but Temari just rolls her eyes. She’s one step ahead, he must admit. She’s good.

“Oh, will you two just get married already!” Temari and Shikamaru splutter in unison, turning to glare at Naruto, who’s already back to noisily slurping ramen. Temari marches over to his desk, leaning over it menacingly. 

“You shouldn’t test the patience of those who bring you food, Hokage-sama. They could poison it.” Naruto looks up at her, his eyes going wide for a moment before he breaks into a full-bodied laugh. 

“Looks like I struck a cord, eh Shikamaru?” Naruto hunches over, wiping the moisture from his eyes, still laughing maniacally. Shikamaru takes this as his opportunity to reach over and slip his scroll onto the pile of mission reports to be signed. He has to admit, Temari makes damn good diversions. The only problem is she tends to distract him too. 

“Several,” Shikamaru replies, easily, once he notices Naruto’s gaze land on him again. “Just wait and see if I buy you lunch again, if you’re going to say shit like that.” 

“Wait, Shika-” 

Temari huffs, pulling herself back up to her full height. “And I think that’s my cue to leave. I’ve gotten stuck in the middle of too many fights between Kages and their assistants already, thanks.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you later.” 

She smirks at him over her shoulder. “Naturally.” 

Shikamaru watches her as she saunters out of the room, his gaze slowly dropping downwards. Hardly a moment passes by before the door closes behind her, and he has to stop and blink, bringing himself back into the moment. Distracting is beginning to sound like it isn’t a strong enough word. 

The sound of slurping from the desk beside him has stopped. 

It takes longer to register than it should, almost certainly because of Temari, but when he looks back, Naruto is grinning at him. 

“Oh boy, you’ve got it bad,” Naruto snickers. 

“Shut up.” 

“Why would I do that?” 

Shikamaru sighs, falling into his normal place at Naruto’s left side. “Didn’t I just tell you? I’ll stop buying you lunch if you keep pointing out unnecessary things.” 

“I don’t know.” Naruto shrugs and turns down to the documents in front of him, empty takeout container pushed to the side of his desk. “The whole thing seems pretty necessary to me. You care about someone, so that should be enough.” 

“Yeah, well-”

“Huh, what’s this? It wasn’t on my desk earlier.” 

Shikamaru stops, words stuck in the back of his throat. The scroll that he just finished filling out is now open in front of Naruto, the attempt to distract him foiled far more quickly than he expected.

“Oh, it’s just a form for a joint B-Rank joint mission with Suna. You know, to promote our friendship with them now that we’re allies.” Shikamaru tries to keep his voice even. If he messes this up now, he’s going to have a lot more than a lump on the back of his head to worry about.

“That-” Naruto looks at Shikamaru, eyes glinting, and Shikamaru gulps. “-sounds like a brilliant idea. Why haven’t we been doing this before now?” Shikamaru lets his body relax as he breathes out slowly, but it only lasts for a moment. He tenses up again when Naruto narrows his eyes.

“Wait, why are some of ours and Suna’s top jonin assigned to this mission? It’s only a B-Rank. Do you really need Choji, Kiba and you, plus Temari, Kankuro, and Baki? What’s really going on here?” He looks pointedly at Shikamaru, eyebrow cocked. 

“Look, it’s not that big of a deal, alright? Temari just wants to try something with Kiba and Kankuro. She’s absolutely determined to be some sort of jonin match-maker. It probably won’t work out, but I can’t really say no while she’s staying in my house,” Shikamaru explains dully. The file is still in Naruto’s hands, far enough away that he can’t steal it and forge the signature himself. 

Naruto’s face starts to turn an interesting shade of red. “Temari’s… not in the free room available to her while she’s working here?” 

Shikamaru responds “No, I mean, it’s kind of a drag, but she wants to ‘spend time together’ or something.” 

“Uh, right. She wants to just spend- no, uh-huh, I’m not doing this. I don’t want to know. Shika, you’re one of my best friends, but I don’t want to know about your sex life!” Shikamaru pauses, ready to protest, but Naruto is already opening up the scrolls and going for the pen.

Apparently Shikamaru doesn’t need ramen to distract Naruto. All it takes is a healthy dose of embarrassment, at his own expense no less. He shouldn’t have expected anything else.

Naruto finishes his signature with a flourish, grinning up at Shikamaru. “Heh, I have to admit I wish I could be there too. I’m really curious to see Kiba and Kankuro together. Kiba’s just been moping around the village for months now, so maybe this will be good for him! I mean, it’s not like they’d end up burning an entire village to the ground or something, right?”

Shikamaru lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’m not too sure about that. I tried to tell Temari, but she’s, well-”

“Terrifying as shit.” Naruto finishes for him, chuckling. Shikamaru sighs. 

“Well, you better get home before she comes back and drags you there herself. Have fun, you love birds!” Shikamaru doesn’t even bother responding. He turns and walks out the door. Once he’s far enough down the hall that he’s out of earshot, he lets out a muttered stream of expletives, shaking his head, but he can’t keep the corners of his mouth from turning up.


	3. “Huh, so that’s what his type is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, updates will probably come a bit more frequently now that the two of us are on the same continent again. And there'll be more plot. Plot to support the extensive fluffing of the fluffy fluff.

The problem with Konoha is the people. 

Everyone from Suna, and presumably the other hidden villages, knows that they’re insane when it comes to fighting techniques or creating new jutsu. Where Kankuro’s concerned, their obsessive friendliness is the worst part. 

“So,” the guard starts. 

Kankuro glances over, his irritation clearly written across his face. This is the third time the two guards have attempted to start a conversation, and he’s not having any of it. “What do you want?” 

The other guard starts to snicker. “How long is it that you’ve been standing here now?” 

The first guard leans over, his elbow resting on the other guard’s shoulder in another slightly off-putting display of intimacy. “Did you get stood up?” 

“No!” 

“Well, it certainly looks like it.” The second one purposely looks down at his wrist, his hair only partially held back by the strange head-piece he’s wearing. “It’s been at least twenty minutes by now, if not longer.” 

“You must be pretty desperate if you’re still waiting around.” 

“Good one, Kotetsu.” 

They both start to snicker like children.

Kankuro considers himself to be a reasonable man. He’s all about having good relations between Suna and Konoha. Especially since his sister is working so hard to foster a better relationship between the two villages - and other less platonic relations - but he doesn’t know if he can stand this much longer. Gaara isn’t the only one in their family with loosely veiled murderous rage. And he isn’t just talking about Temari. 

This village is not good for his blood pressure. 

If only Baki hadn’t gone off to get the mission details from the Hokage, regardless of whether or not that should have been Temari’s job. Only one of them spends most of their time in this village, and it certainly isn’t him or Baki. And she’s off with her “not-boyfriend” when she was supposed to meet them here twenty minutes ago.

“Kankuro, try not to look so annoyed. It’s unbecoming.” 

Kankuro turns and sighs in relief at the sight of his old sensei. He slowly unclenches his fist, only now realizing how close he was to actually punching out one of the guards. “Oh, you’re back. How have you always had such great timing?” 

“Wow, isn’t he a little bit old for you?” Kotetsu asks. “What do you think, Izumo?” 

Izumo hums, glancing between Kankuro and Baki, acting oblivious to Kankuro’s growing scowl. “Not his type, honestly. I mean, I can’t say I know what his type is, exactly, but I’d go more for complete asshole, myself.” 

“There’s always the dolls too.” 

“They’re not dolls! And would the two of you shut the fuck up already?” Kankuro snaps, his cheeks hurting with the force of his scowl. 

Baki merely shakes his head, choosing not to get involved. 

Fortunately for the well-being of the two inept guards, Temari and Shikamaru choose this moment to show up. If they think they’re being anything other than completely obvious, they’re wrong, and Kankuro pointedly looks away. Temari grins at him, her hips swaying as she struts towards him, tugging down his hood to reveal his messy hair. 

Kankuro’s murderous rage grows exponentially. He’s pretty sure he’s going to develop an eye-twitch being in Konoha this long. At least back home, he just has to hear about Shikamaru, and doesn’t actually have to see them together. There are just certain things people don’t want to know about their siblings, and this is one of them. 

Kankuro shakes her off, glaring daggers at his sister. He’s about to yell at her too, when he’s interrupted by the sound of crunching.

Recognizing the broad man isn’t difficult, not after the number of photos of him and Shikamaru Temari has forced him to look at over the years. His mouth twists unpleasantly at the idea of someone else being around to witness the pain of being sent on a joint mission with these two idiots. It’s bad enough that one of them has to sit around and watch Temari and Shikamaru deny their feelings for each other. 

“Chouji,” the broad man offers, with a nod. 

Kankuro blinks, briefly thrown off guard. “What? Oh, yeah, I know. We’ve met before.” 

“Yeah, but I know that was awhile ago, regardless of the current, ah-” Chouji cuts himself off with a low snort, ignoring the scowl that Shikamaru sends in his direction. “Where’s Kiba and Akamaru, anyways?” 

“On his way, presumably,” Shikamaru says, under his breath. 

“Wait, Kiba? Isn’t that dog boy? I’ve already saved his ass once; I don’t need to do it again.”

“Fuck off, would you? Who says I need anyone to save me anymore?” 

Kankuro glances towards the gate, his mouth promptly going dry. That… isn’t the same dog boy that he remembers from when they were younger. There were a few moments during the War where they almost ran into each other, sure, but he still didn’t look anything like this. 

_Well done puberty_ , Kankuro thinks. He immediately blanches, shaking his head to violently murder that thought before it runs away with him. 

Not thinking about it is almost as difficult as thinking about it, though. Kankuro can’t quite seem to tear his eyes away from Kiba, all wide, toothy grin and muscular shoulders. The white, fluffy dog next to him is almost as large as he is, but it does nothing to make him look smaller than he must be. His ass must be amazing, even though Kankuro can’t see it right now. 

“No,” he finally manages to say, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I suppose you don’t.” 

Unbenounced to Kankuro, Temari and Shikamaru share a knowing look. Baki simply rolls his eyes. The sound of crunching chips fills the awkward silence, as Choji smiles, seemingly unphased. 

“Huh,” Izumo says, suddenly speaking up from behind them, “So that’s what his type is.” 

Kotetsu cackles, leaning into Izumo fondly. 

There’s really nothing Kankuro can say to that. Even if he attempted to respond, it would probably come out as a jumble of different syllables that don’t actually form any real words. And that would just prove their point. Kankuro refuses to give them the satisfaction. 

Kiba grins at him, clearly preening under the praise. “Heh, I’m glad that someone in this village recognizes that I’m not fucking useless. It’s always Naruto this, and Naruto that, but we both know who the real winner from Konoha is.” 

“Shut up,” Kankuro says awkwardly. “I never agreed that you’re attractive… I just didn’t disagree. But even if you were, which I’m not saying you are, your annoying personality and dog breath totally ruins it.” 

Kiba visibly deflates at his words, his cheeks growing even redder under the paint of his clan markings. “You’re one to talk, puppet boy.” Kankuro is about to shout a stream of curses at him when Kiba amends, “But I guess your ears are pretty cool.” 

“Um, thanks, I guess.” Kankuro awkwardly mutters. “Your dog is pretty cool, or whatever.”

Kiba beams at him, his show of teeth almost blinding Kankuro. His face heats up. “I guess you’re okay after all.”


	4. “Temari, I swear to God, I will end you.”

The odd group of shinobi race through the tree branches, heading farther from the walls of Konoha. Kiba and Akamaru lead the pack, their noses alert, waiting to pick up any sign of enemies. Temari and Shikamaru follow at a distance, their glances flickering between Kiba in front of them and Kankuro behind them. Kankuro and Baki follow behind, and Choji ends their strange procession, guarding them from any attack to their rear. 

Most shinobi don’t travel in groups quite this large, because they don’t want to attract attention. However, Kiba supposes that most groups aren’t actually on some weird village-bonding mission of what must be no real importance. 

Akamaru grumbles in hushed tones, while Kiba nods in agreement. 

“I know that’s what he said, but don’t you think it’s a little weird, Akamaru?”

Akamaru barks and Kiba sighs, “Yeah, I know he said you were ‘cool or whatever,’ but that doesn’t mean you should trust him right away. Besides, I’m sure tonnes of people think you’re cool, and not all of them are him” 

Akamaru growls, more exasperated than anything else. 

“Alright, yes, he also said my clan markings are cool, but that doesn’t mean anything. Literally anyone could have said that, especially if they were trying to gain our trust. Although, okay his are pretty cool too. Oh, don’t give me that look, Akamaru!” 

The look Akamaru gives him is sharp, and Kiba winces. That one was a bit of a long shot, even if he doesn’t entirely regret saying it. Hardly anyone comments on his clan markings, not even when he ends up disappearing to the shinobi bar that half the shinobi population spends their time in. Nobody comments on it when he sneaks away to the civilian bar, just to change up the pace every now and again. 

Kiba turns away for a moment, as he jumps down to a lower branch. They must be getting away from Konoha now, because the trees are starting to get a bit smaller and more sparse. They are still huge, but other trees never quite the same as Konoha trees. 

Maybe the real question should be how long until they reach their destination, rather than if they can trust the Kazekage’s brother. Neither Temari nor Shikamaru ended up sharing any valuable information with them. Not about the mission, at any rate. The amount of long looks they keep giving each other are telling in an entirely different way. 

Kiba pushes the thought of Shikamaru and his “not-girlfriend” scheming away for the moment. It’s probably nothing anyways. But something does smell off. Kiba glances back to Akamaru who’s still scrutinizing him with sharp canine eyes.

“Okay, what now?”

Akamaru huffs and barks in his direction.

“Yes, yes, I do think they’re acting odd, but they’re always odd. It’s probably nothing. Just focus on keeping a lookout. We’re at the front; we can’t afford to be distracted.”

Kiba snorts as Akamaru rolls his eyes--yes, literally rolls his eyes--at him. That dog. He swears. But he can’t blame anyone but himself. He raised that dog up from a pup to a fully grown horse-sized ninja hound. And maybe he does take after his partner when he barks back. 

Someone makes a choked noise from behind him, and Kiba looks back over his shoulder with a frown. Temari is holding her hand to her mouth, visibly suppressing a laugh. 

“What?” Kiba asks. 

She waves the question away, and continues onwards. “Kankuro was just staring at something really interesting.” 

“Temari!” 

Kiba lets his gaze slide back to the scandalized Kankuro. “Yeah? What was it then? Anything we should know for the mission?” 

“Oh, it was something really special. Something that just happened to be your-”

“Temari, please stop,” Kankuro says, drawing out his words as if he’s being tortured. His face is flaming red. Honestly, it’s kind of cute. 

“Shuriken holder,” Temari finishes, suspiciously. “He doesn’t think it’s put on properly, and he can get a bit particular about little things like that. Works out well when it isn’t a complete pain in the ass.” 

“Temari, I swear to God, I will end you,” Kankuro seethes through clenched teeth. 

Kiba chuckles to himself, reminded of his own annoying older sister. Maybe he and Kankuro do have some things in common after all. 

“Oh please, Kankuro, do you really think you could take me on?” Temari teases.

She just gets the opportunity to see Kankuro almost lunge towards her before Baki scoffs purposely, from behind them. Shikamaru is staring pointedly at her as well, now that’s she no longer distracted by tormenting her younger brother. Her sigh fills the now purposeful silence she turns back towards the front again. 

The look Baki gives her is almost enough to make up for the whole fighting during a mission thing. Not that Kiba minds, himself. There’s just something about seeing Kankuro get angry at what seems to be almost nothing that he finds more satisfying than he should. Staying as purposely oblivious as Chouji seems to be has never been an option for him, regardless of the situation.

They approach a clearing where the ground starts to slope down towards a small, winding creek with a rocky cliff looming overhead. Kiba misses the look Temari and Shikamaru share, too distracted by the sudden onslaught of different scents. 

Two shinobi lunge out from around a bend in the cliff face, charging towards their group. Their identities are completely concealed beneath black clothing and masks that make them more like darting shadows than the rogue shinobi they are. 

Akamaru growls and starts barking loudly. Next to him, Kiba tenses, bracing himself for a fight. 

“Kiba, Akamaru, Kankuro, you guys take these two. I can sense more around the bend. Baki, Chouji, Temari, and myself will go after them.”

“Right!” Kankuro and Kiba yell in unison while Akamaru barks his consent. 

Then the others are gone in a whirl of leaves and sand, leaving them to take on these two ninja. 

Kiba ducks his head, almost feeling a kunai pass through his hair, Akamaru right beside him. He can see Kankuro unfurl a scroll from the corner of his eye, puppets appearing in a puff of smoke. 

“You take front, and I’ll back you up,” Kankuro says, evenly as the clicking of his puppets fills the air with a menacing sound. 

Kiba inclines his chin, already lowering his center of gravity. There’s a reason why Kankuro is part of the Suna Puppet Corp, a military organization well known for its screen smokes and hidden traps. Attacking head on is only a good idea for a puppet user unless they know exactly what they’re up against. 

Him and Kankuro have no idea what they’re up against here. 

Akamaru moves in tandem with him, both of them charging forward towards their two enemies. Easy to handle, with a bit of luck. The three of them should be more than enough to deal with a couple unknowns, masked or not. 

Before Kiba can even react, shuriken speed towards him. He barely manages to dodge the first one, but there are already more shooting at him. He dives out of their trajectory, cursing. Akamaru lets out a low howl, and lunges out at the shinobi who threw the shuriken, Kiba right along beside him. 

In a heartbeat, Kiba and Akamaru are spinning at impossible speeds, their claws slicing through the air like a tornado of razor blades. Their target tries to flicker away, but they manage to clip his arm with their man-beast-clone jutsu. 

They land hard on the ground, skidding to a halt, crouching on all fours. They’re about to charge at the masked shinobi again when Kankuro shouts, “Kiba, look out behind you!”

Kiba doesn’t have time to whirl around before he’s being physically dragged sideways and out of the path of a viciously swinging tanto. Kiba skids across the ground, regaining his footing, but when he looks up, he feels all the air rush out of his lungs. 

Kankuro’s puppet took the brunt of the blade, but an inch or two managed to pierce right through the wood of the puppet and into Kankuro’s shoulder. 

“This isn’t fucking happening again.” 

Kiba doesn’t even realize he’s said something until Kankuro glances at him, his jaw tense with pain. “What?” 

“The - the whole you saving me thing!” Kiba hisses. “I was supposed to save you this time around. I’m still going to!” 

Kankuro’s face goes through a complex series of emotions, that Kiba has no time to pay any attention to. Instead, he pulls himself up to his feet, fully intent on finally getting nice and properly serious with these assholes.   
ah, yes  
Said assholes share a significant look with each other, one of them using this as an opportunity to take a careful step backwards. Kiba steps forwards. It’s the only thing he can do. Just like Akamaru moves forwards with him, even from their other side. 

The shinobi who didn’t move backwards starts to laugh, loud and hysterical. “I seem to have angered your boyfriend, so I think it’s time for us to go. But don’t worry! This was only the first part of our plan! We’ll be back before you even have the chance to blink.” 

Kiba doesn’t even have time to react, or tell these two shinobi they’re presumptuous fucking idiots, before they’re gone in a whirl of leaves. He turns to Kankuro, who’s trying to staunch his bleeding shoulder. 

“So, I guess it’s my time to save you.”


	5. "I approve of your methods."

“They’re… just not going to bother looking for us?” Shikamaru says, beneath his breath. 

Temari shushes him automatically, not moving her gaze away from the clearing Kankuro and Kiba have settled into, as she pushes away a branch to see better. “Don’t worry so much. It’s better this way anyways.” 

“Your idea of better is questionable, Temari.” 

“Yeah, I have to agree with Shika this time, Temari-chan. I don’t get why Kankuro being injured and Kiba not looking for help is better,” Chouji adds in, from a few feet behind them. 

Konoha is simply full of doubters. 

Not really, given that Konoha contains the shinobi that care the most about things like teamwork and thus have a tendency to ignore things other villages take as law. Temari has heard stories from Iwa and Kumo from the previous shinobi wars. She was there when the last shinobi war happened, fully capable of seeing their ridiculous belief in each other for herself. 

However, when it comes to things like seeing why Kankuro working Kiba into a worry is a good thing, they’re useless. Temari can almost feel him fretting from over here. It’s a wonder he hasn’t been pacing the clearing there. Actually, Temari smirks to herself and ducks down slightly as Kiba glances in her direction, that must only be because he can’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from Kankuro. 

“Besides, Chouji,” Temari says as her lips turn up into a sly smile, “What’s more typical of Konoha shinobi than ignoring all logic and helping a friend in need?” 

At that, Shikamaru snickers before schooling his expression again and glancing over at Chouji. “She’s right you know. This was all part of the plan. And, honestly, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s a good plan.”

Temari beams at him, and he rolls his eyes in response. Chouji just shrugs and nods. He’s learned over the years not to argue with Temari, especially since she’s been coming around a lot more recently. 

They all fall silent when they hear Akamaru barking anxiously, and Temari peers back out at the two knuckleheads. Kiba leaps into action, rushing to Kankuro’s side, where Akamaru stands hunched over him, grumbling gruffly. 

Kankuro and Kiba are too far away for Temari to make out any of the words they say, but it isn’t hard to guess. Even if she couldn’t read Kankuro’s lips, the pain she can see clearly written across his face is more than enough to deduce that Kankuro is pretending to act tough. She holds back a snicker. That pout can’t come from someone who is seriously injured, not when she used to see him do the same thing after they’d train together as children. 

Not that Kiba picks up on the acting, not even for a moment. Instead, he reaches for his kunai pouch, anxiously rifling through it. Likely looking for spare tensor bandages, given that most shinobi tend to carry those around.

Her smirk fades when Kiba tugs Kankuro’s shirt up. Kiba glances back down at her brother’s face every few moments or so, as if he’s afraid to hurt him. 

If Kankuro were seriously injured, that might be a real problem. 

If Kankuro were anything other than two seconds away from swooning into Kiba’s arms, Temari might be slightly concerned. But the only fainting he’s going to be doing isn’t from blood loss. It’s from Kiba’s biceps. 

“So, we’ve been wondering-” 

Temari inhales sharply, only moments away from physically jumping up. She glances to the side, not entirely surprised to find the two Konoha shinobi she hired to play the part of an enemy target. They came well recommended by Shikamaru.

Well, what he actually said was more along the lines of, ‘If you’re planning something entirely ridiculous, Izumo and Kotetsu are your men.’ But those are minor details. 

“Yes?” she asks, almost hesitant. 

“Those two are supposed to be jounin, right?” the other one - Izumo, if she remembers correctly - starts. “So, why are they so shitty in battle? They should have been able to kick Kotetsu’s ass, and then mine twice over.” 

“Speak for yourself. I’m perfectly fine in a good fight.” 

Izumo snorts. “Then why do you always avoid taking the jounin exam?” 

“No reason. No reason at all,” Kotetsu says, turning his attention back towards Temari. “So, what about it? They have to be somewhat competent at least part of the time, right?”

Temari takes a deep breath, ready to retort, and then a brief moment from the clearing catches her eye. The air slowly deflates from her lungs again, because it looks like Kankuro is two seconds away from convincing Kiba to put some sort of cream on his wound. “They’re normally both extremely competent shinobi.” 

“And not much else,” Shikamaru adds in.

“That’s…” 

All of them stop again. Looking away from how Kiba takes the jar of cream from Kankuro’s hands is impossible. Temari blinks, because it almost looks like Kiba is full-on straddling Kankuro from this angle. Actually, there’s no possible way that he isn’t straddling Kankuro, given the way he leans forward on Kankuro’s thighs to get a better look at the wound.

“Hey Kotetsu,” Izumo interjects, elbowing his partner in the ribs jokingly, “want to take bets how long it’ll be until either Kankuro has actually swooned or Kiba has taken off his shirt for no reason?” 

Kotetsu snickers, leaning on Izumo as he stifles his laughter with his hand. “You’re on! I bet both will happen within the next five minutes.”

Izumo cackles quietly as he replies. “I bet three minutes or less.” Then they shake on it as Baki and Shikamaru roll their eyes. 

Temari, however, wants in on this action. “Less than two minutes, and if I win, I don’t have to pay you.” 

That catches their attention.

“I like her,” Kotetsu decides out loud, nodding at Shikamaru approvingly. He simply sighs in response, but Temari beams at them. Sure they might talk a lot, but they’re her kind of people. 

Temari has to physically stop herself from screaming in victory when Kiba does, in fact, take off his shirt. He then proceeds to rip it along a seam and starts to wind it around Kankuro’s now cleaned wound. Either he doesn’t have any bandages in his kunai pouch, or he’s pretending he doesn’t. Temari thinks that it’s almost certainly the latter. 

She almost feels like she should look away as she watches her brother’s face start to redden, his gaze not moving from Kiba’s chest. Only, intruding on private moments like this is one of her duties as his older sister. She needs to be certain that this is all going to go exactly as she’s planned it. 

“So,” she says, unmoving, “it looks like you’re not getting paid today.” 

Kotetsu shrugs. “That’s fine. You won, fair and square. Besides, we also have all the blackmail material in the world. We won’t have to do paperwork for at least a month.” 

“I approve of your methods. Now, tell what exactly happened while you were gone.” 

Izumo and Kotetsu exchange a long look, before Izumo shrugs. “We ran towards them. We fought. It turns out they were so wrapped up in each other that they couldn’t block a simple kunai to the gut. Easy enough, really.” 

“Oh please,” Shikamaru interjects, his tone more bored than annoyed. “Before you two started dating, you were the most useless, bumbling idiots in Konoha. You would do anything the other asked of you, including pulling off any plan they came up with, no matter how stupid it was. Everyone is like that when they’re in-” But he cuts himself off, his face turning red as he glances at Temari, looking away quickly. 

Chouji, the friend that he is, comes to Shikamaru’s rescue. “Yeah, you guys were totally ridiculous. Well, not much has changed, actually.”

At that, Baki snorts. Temari is sure that in his head, he’s muttering something about ‘these meddling kids’ or thinking back to all of the times she and Kankuro have gotten into trouble with exasperation.

“Cruel,” Kotetsu says, straight-faced. “First you order us around, and then you’re unbelievably cruel.” 

Shikamaru rolls his eyes. “We hired you.”

“And now we’re not even getting paid,” Izumo adds. 

“Wow, you guys are really gullible. Do you know how many times Shikamaru has taken me out to barbeque, only to forget his wallet at home? It could have been a lot, if I didn’t also forget my wallet.” Chouji shrugs, not really paying too much attention to the nearby couple. “It turns out he doesn’t forget to pay as often as he’d like. At least you aren’t as gullible as Kiba is, anyways.” 

All of them look back towards the clearing, a silent agreement that nobody is quite as gullible as Kiba is right now passing between them. 

“Yep, at least I’m not as gullible as that!” Kotetsu comments, grinning.

“Are too,” Izumo counters.

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

Temari easily tunes them out, focusing instead on her brother, currently lying with his head in Kiba’s lap and a dreamy expression on his face. This is going even better than expected. She thinks it will be a spring wedding, pale blues and pinks mainly, something subtle but classy.


	6. "I'm comforting you, idiot."

Kiba frowns as he rummages through his kunai pouch. There should be at least one set of tensor bandages in here, the ones he usually keeps around in case Hinata accidentally exerts too much chakra. 

His fingers pause when they brush against the soft bandages and his frown grows. The tensor bandages are right there. He should be perfectly capable of pulling them out and using them on Kankuro’s wound, just like he’s known how to do since Kurenai forced them to learn how right before the war. Only, that depends on if he wants to use them. 

Very carefully, Kiba looks up from his kunai pouch and grimaces over at Kankuro. He’s lying on his back with his shirt balled up under his head like a pillow and his wound exposed. His gaze keeps drifting from the shallow gouge in Kankuro’s shoulder to his chest, then further down to his stomach, defined by a lifetime of training, before Kiba forces himself to snap out of it. And that’s when it hits him.

He should take off his shirt too. 

So he slowly lets go of the bandages, zipping up the pouch as innocently as he can manage. This is a much better option. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

He pulls his shirt over his head and ignores the look Akamaru gives him, instead focusing on ripping the fabric into strips to bind Kankuro’s wound. It tears easily, far more easily than perhaps it should, given his profession. And thinking about that as he focuses on his now-torn shirt is far easier than letting himself look up to see the expression that must be on Kankuro’s face. 

“I must have forgotten my bandages back in my apartment,” Kiba offers, gruffly, when he tears the last section of his shirt. “This is going to have to do for now.” 

Kankuro’s jaw goes slack. “I - yes - I mean, yes, it’s fine, if you don’t have anything else around.” 

They both look over when Akamaru snorts. 

That dog, Kiba swears. The last thing he needs to hear is that he’s lying through his teeth right now. He didn’t raise Akamaru from a pup to sass him so much. Really, Kiba has no clue where he learned it from. 

Kiba’s heart clenches when he sees Kankuro’s face screwed up in obvious discomfort. Even though he treated his wound with a healing salve, he’s not sure it won’t get infected. Just because the sword didn’t hit anything vital and isn’t very deep doesn’t mean it can’t cause some serious damage down the line. 

Besides, lying on the ground isn’t comfortable even when the person in question isn’t injured. 

Night is falling rapidly, and Kiba can already feel the cold nip of nighttime. For a brief moment, he regrets ripping up his only shirt, but only for a moment. 

A soft grunt immediately captures his attention, just as he leans back on his heels. His gaze flickers back up to Kankuro’s face, nothing visible except the pained twist of his lips. The wound is bandaged and shouldn’t be bothering him that much now. Then again, they are stuck in the middle of some forest with no way to properly assess the wound. Stuck in the middle of some forest, injured, and technically on a mission that he doesn’t know the details of, because the team captain has seemingly disappeared with the rest of their team.

What happened is really just a mystery to everyone. And he can’t exactly leave Kankuro here to go looking for them. The others will just have to come to them. 

The only thing he can do for now is make sure that Kankuro is comfortable. Then he has another brilliant idea. And it won’t just keep Kankuro comfortable. It’ll keep them warm too.

He tentatively scoots around to kneel next to Kankuro’s head, all the while ignoring the look he just knows Akamaru is throwing his way. Instead, he focuses on the way Kankuro’s face is all screwed up in pain, eyes shut, brow furrowed, distorting the purple markings on his face. The darkly lined eyes flutter open as Kiba gingerly lifts the brunet’s head, sliding his crumpled shirt out and sitting cross-legged in its place, creating a pillow out of his lap. Then he lays Kankuro’s shirt over him like a blanket. Sure, he feels the loss of view a bit, but Kankuro’s health is more important. 

“What are you doing?” Kankuro’s dark eyes bore holes into Kiba’s, and for a second, he thinks he made a big mistake, but then Kankuro’s eyelids droop, and he sighs. Kiba doesn’t know if it’s in comfort or resignation, but he’ll take it. 

“I’m comforting you, idiot.”

Kankuro grimaces at Kiba’s response, but he shifts slightly anyways, making himself more comfortable. “How domestic of you.”

“Oh shut up, you bastard. If you weren’t injured, I would punch you.”

Kiba tries to sound annoyed, but now they’re both grinning like idiots and failing miserably at hiding it. 

Somehow, just the act of trying to hide it makes him feel giddy, butterflies quickly coming to life in his stomach like he’s some sort of Aburame. Shino would be oddly indignant if he tried to explain it to his teammate. The best part about it, though, is that the feeling is clearly mutual. 

Akamaru slowly pulls himself up off the ground from the other side of the clearing. Just as Kiba opens his mouth to ask though, Akamaru saunters over to the two of them and lies down behind him, just close enough that Kiba can easily lean back. There’s a smug ‘I told you so’ in the way Akamaru rests his head down on his paws, and Kiba hasn’t been this relieved that nobody outside of his clan can understand Akamaru since he was a teenager. 

“You know,” Kankuro says, continuing to talk even as his eyes fall closed, “you’re the one who’s really the bastard between the two of us.” 

Kiba can’t stop a sharp snort from escaping. “Liar.” 

“No, really. There’s got to be something wrong with you. Most people go for pleasantries, not insults, when they first see someone.” 

“You’re certainly one to talk there,” Kiba counters, his cheeks hurting from the strength of his grin. “Has a nice word ever come out of your mouth?” 

“Excuse you. I bet your mother would even agree with me, if by some miracle you don’t take right after her in that regard.” 

Before Kiba can even begin to address that, Akamaru growls, raising his nose up in indignation.

“Akamaru says you’re the real bastard here. Now it’s two against one. I win.”

“You think I’m not used to people teaming up against me? Two on one, I like those odds. I’m the middle child of the One Tailed jinchuuriki and Kazekage, and Temari, the queen of sass. Believe me, I can handle both of you. In my sleep.” 

“Queen of sass? Well, you got the queen part right at least.”

They both whip their heads around when Temari looms out of the shadows, a wicked smile on her face. And yes, Kiba believes that if Kankuro grew up with her as his older sister, he probably _can_ take on anything. 

In a way, that’s a good thing. His mother and sister are extremely capable of tearing down anyone who they don’t think is good enough for him. Or, at the very least, isn’t stubborn enough to face them head on in an argument. And Kiba bets that Kankuro would even be able to surprise them. That’s far more than anyone he’s brought home so far can claim.


	7. “Would you two please, for the love of god, put some clothes on!”

Kankuro pats the ground in front of him, his eyes still closed in the face of the chilly morning air. The faintest memory of warmth lingers in the back of his mind, and a curl of satisfaction forms in his chest as he touches something soft and warm and extremely easy to hold onto. 

Grabbing onto it is much easier than pulling it closer to him. There would be a bit more give if this were one of his pillows, that is to say, a lot more give. His bed wouldn’t normally include a rock inconveniently jabbing into his side either, not unless something went horribly wrong. And he hasn’t pissed Temari off that badly since he was seven or eight. 

His hand travels upwards as he continues to keep his eyes closed. Whatever he’s holding onto isn’t quite so soft there, instead the firm feeling of coiled muscle, then what is unmistakably an elbow. There is nothing else that quite feels like a bony elbow, but at least he’s more or less certain of who the elbow belongs to. Only one person was sleeping close enough to him last night for them to still be so close together. 

Kankuro slides his hand back down, absentmindedly allowing his fingers to intertwine with Kiba’s and rolls onto his side. There’s a slight twinge of pain in his ribs, but nothing too unbearable. At least, it’s still worth sliding closer to Kiba for.

But he hesitates when he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Slowly, he raises his head, the feeling of a pair of eyes on him unmistakable. His stomach lurches when a pair of dark grey eyes meet his gaze, unblinking and staring right at him. Well, more like right through him. 

Kankuro immediately releases his hold on Kiba’s hand, never looking away from the canine eyes keeping him otherwise frozen in place. Akamaru raises a brow, not entirely menacing, but not particularly fond either. Kankuro scoots back a few more inches, careful not to make a sound and wake Kiba. That would probably be the worst thing that could happen at this particular moment. 

Especially if Akamaru tells him that Kankuro was just snuggling into him in the middle of a god-damned mission. 

“Not a word,” he breathes, looking imploringly at Akamaru. “Please.”

Akamaru’s snout scrunches up, and if Kankuro didn’t know better, he’d say Akamaru is enjoying this. Akamaru lets out a soft huff, stretching out his paws and yawning widely, blinking in the faint morning light. 

It can’t even be sunrise yet. No one is awake except for him. At least, he certainly hopes so. Temari would never let him live it down if she caught him snuggling up against a Konoha shinobi. 

What a hypocrite. 

Not that Kankuro has anyone to blame but himself. He lets his head fall back down onto his makeshift pillow and tries to hold back an exasperated groan. It doesn’t matter if Temari finds him snuggling up to Kiba or not, she’s going to be teasing him about this until the day he dies. And then some. She still hasn’t let go of finding him behind the Kazekage building with one of the attendants when he was eighteen, and he doesn’t even remember his name anymore. 

Suffice it to say, Kankuro doesn’t think he’s going to forget Kiba’s name anytime soon. 

Not after he was looming over him, _shirtless_ and tending to his wounds.

And then sitting with Kankuro’s head resting in his lap.

Yep. Kankuro isn’t going to forget this anytime soon.

While this could end up like that time with one of Gaara’s attendants, it really doesn’t feel like it’s going to. He lets himself look at the hair falling across Kiba’s forehead and then immediately scowls at the pool of warmth growing in his chest, his heartbeat echoing in his ears. 

“You know, if you don’t want Temari to find you like this, you should probably get up soon,” a calm and collected voice informs him. “I would like to hear about something other than you and the Inuzuka boy sometime this year.” 

“Baki,” Kankuro groans, quickly rolling over onto his other side, away from Kiba. 

His former sensei stares at him, the absolute definition of unimpressed, and clearly as awake as can be as he sits beside the ashes of a small fire. He’s almost certainly been awake this entire time, keeping watch, just in case something happened. 

Kankuro really should have known better. Having someone act as a guard is standard practice for missions, always has been. 

This dog boy is really messing with him. 

Kankuro slowly sits up, careful not to aggravate his wound, and he rests his chin in his hands, trying to make a game plan. He can’t just lie here all day, reveling in his inner turmoil. He has to do something useful. And he shouldn’t even have inner turmoil, particularly not inner turmoil that has to do with Kiba and his annoying, sculpted chest.

He gets up, careful to avoid meeting both Akamaru’s and Baki’s eyes, as he grabs everyone’s canteens. Maybe taking a walk to the creek to get them more water will clear his head. At least, he certainly hopes it will. 

The water of the nearby stream easily slides over the smooth rocks winding in its bed, immediately catching his attention as he leans down to fill the canteens. Years of taking missions outside of Suna, and still he’s captivated by a simple rock-bed creek. 

It’s a bit like Kiba, in a way. Not the actual stream, that is, because Kiba would be far closer to a waterfall or the ocean if Kankuro was forced to come up with some sort of metaphor for him. He’s more than content to leave the bad poetry to Gaara though, even if Gaara would murder him if he found out that Kankuro knows about it. Still, Kiba is technically common as one of Konoha’s Inuzuka, but captivating to Kankuro nonetheless. 

Kankuro scowls as he tightens the lid to one of the canteens, and starts filling the next one. 

There’s just something about him. Other than his fine ass. Okay, well, his fine ass and that something else. Kankuro can’t quite put his finger on it, but it’s that quality—that fire in his eyes—that makes the weird burning feeling happen in Kankuro’s stomach and his knees weak. He can’t let it go. 

“Okay,” he says to himself as the soft murmur of the creek fills the otherwise silent forest, and his grip tightens around the canteen. “If I can’t let it go, then I go for it.”

Kankuro stands up decisively, all the canteens full and in hand, and turns back to the camp. His head is held up high the entire walk back, even once he spots Kiba and Akamaru awake and talking with Chouji beside the burned-out fire.

The conversation between Kiba and Chouji dies the moment Kankuro steps into the camp, Kiba staring resolutely forward. All it takes is for Akamaru to glance over at him, head resting on his paws, for him to know exactly what conversation took place while he was gone. The exact conversation that Kankuro pleaded with Akamaru not to happen. 

Man’s best friend, his ass. This is the absolute height of betrayal. 

How exactly is he supposed to say anything now without looking like a complete idiot? 

“Kankuro, are you going to sit down or not?” Temari asks, her gaze flickering to the only open spot in the circle. The spot conveniently placed right between her and Kiba. Kankuro is going to kill her. “How will you ever grow into a handsome, sculpted young man if you don’t get your nutrients?”

“Oh god,” Kankuro replies, trying not to gag. “You sound like one of Gaara’s sappy love poems.”

Temari snickers when Shikamaru chokes on his breakfast, tears forming in the corners of his eyes at this new-found information. Only when he stops coughing does Kankuro sit down, careful not to touch Kiba as he fits himself into the rather small spot Temari saved for him.

She definitely knows. 

And that thought alone is terrifying. 

“Pork?” Chouji offers, his mouth full of food as he hands Kankuro a plate. 

“Thanks,” Kankuro mumbles, feeling every single pair of eyes on him. 

His hand accidentally brushes against Kiba’s arm when he reaches out to grab the plate, abruptly aware that neither of them are wearing shirts when his skin starts to burn at the slightest contact. Maybe this is a bit further out of his comfort zone than he had initially thought. It feels as if he’s going to burst into flames just at that. Or be swallowed into the ground.

The silence is starting to become unbearably awkward when Baki finally speaks up, shattering any last hint of sanity Kankuro was holding onto in this moment. “Would you two please, for the love of god, put some clothes on!”


	8. “Get back here and let me help you, you bastard!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry about the wait - we've been a bit busy with, you know, our lives and stuff. Turns out papers are a bitch. Who would have guessed after so many years? Anyways, with any hope, the shenanigans of this chapter will make up for that. 
> 
> Love you! xoxo
> 
> -medium wife and smol wife

Kiba looks over from where he’s poking a stick in the dying embers repeatedly, avoiding Kankuro’s gaze as he frowns in Shikamaru’s direction. Baki has Temari and Shikamaru cornered by the treeline, and it looks like he’s giving them a firm scolding. Even though sitting here in awkward silence is not how he wants to spend his morning, it’s better than getting chewed out by the slightly terrifying Suna jounin. 

It’s difficult to tell whether Shikamaru or Temari cave first, but both of them look slightly ashamed as they head back towards the camp, Baki following behind them. Someone must have caved. Someone must have caved about something that Kiba is still attempting to figure out. 

If only Akamaru hadn’t decided this was the perfect opportunity for a nap, because then Kiba would know exactly what the three of them had been talking about. 

“Alright, loverboys,” Temari starts, “Baki has so conveniently reminded me that we do in fact have a mission to complete, but Kankuro is still injured, and I don’t think it would take all of us to track down those rogue shinobi anyways. So-”

“No!” Kankuro interjects, his brow creasing as he glares at his sister like she’s the literal devil. “You’re not leaving me here. I’m fine.”

“And it will, in fact, take all of us to take down those shinobi,” Kiba adds. 

Kankuro looks over at him and motions dramatically. “See? At least Kiba isn’t an idiot.” 

Shikamaru snorts.

“Just for that,” Temari says, dryly. “Kiba, you’re going to stay here with him. I’m afraid that if we leave Kankuro alone for more than a few minutes at a time, he’ll manage to injure himself again. And we can’t have that, can we?” 

Kiba hesitates, glancing over at Kankuro. He hates that Temari has a point about this, plus if he’s being entirely honest with himself, he wouldn’t mind being alone with Kankuro. While their shirts are off. 

After all, once this mission is over, Kankuro will have to go back to Suna, and Kiba will be in Konoha. Both of them will be wearing shirts, somehow not as appealing as this very moment. Partially because Kankuro will be clothed once more, and partially because Kiba won’t be around to see the moments when he isn’t clothed. It will be a sad, depressing time. 

Kiba heaves a great sigh that would make even Shikamaru proud. “She’s right, Kankuro.”

Kiba feels the moment his pride is ripped from him by those words. But, this _is_ a once in a lifetime opportunity. And he’s damn well going to make the most of it.

All he has to do is carefully not look over at Kankuro for the next few moments. Or at Temari, even though he can see the smirk on her face from the corner of his eye. If he can pretend that this decision is because of Kankuro’s health and not his abs, then maybe this will all turn out okay. 

Just then, as though the gods can hear his every thought and are punishing him, Akamaru snorts, and Kiba realizes he’s about as transparent as the river flowing nearby.

“I’m glad you agree, Kiba,” Temari says, brightly. “Do you think you can take care of him while we’re gone?” 

Shikamaru, thankfully, does not mention Kiba’s floundering expression, and grabs Temari’s arm. “Come on, we’re going. Not sitting around and making fun of them. Leaving. To defeat those… rogue shinobi.” 

Baki simply walks away.

Choji follows behind him, remaining silent, though his eyes flicker up for a moment to Kiba’s, as though he’s silently apologizing.

Shikamaru finally manages to drag Temari away, but she still glances over her shoulder and raises a brow at Kiba, her smile wicked.

When he’s sure they’re out of earshot, Kiba finally allows himself to look over at Kankuro, frowning next to the now dead fire.

Kiba’s stomach clenches when Kankuro looks back at him, his dark eyes assessing.

The tension is unbearable, and Kiba snags the canteens to give himself something to focus on that isn’t Kankuro, shirtless. So very shirtless.

“I’m going to go fill up the canteens. We’re all out of water again.” And if he’s being honest, it’s mostly because of him and his damn insatiable thirst.

Never has Kiba been so glad that his red clan markings are disguising his embarrassed flush. 

To think that just a few minutes ago, Kiba had been planning on taking advantage of every moment of Kankuro being shirtless. And now he can’t even bring himself to look back at Kankuro, undoubtedly gaping at him from the side of the fire. 

Akamaru gives a slight howl from right behind him, and Kiba nearly trips over his own feet in his haste to turn around. Sure enough, Kankuro is standing right behind him, his face set in grim determination. That is just about all it takes for Kiba to figure out exactly what he’s planning in this moment.

“No,” he says, firmly. 

Kankuro huffs. “No, what?” 

“I can get the water all by myself. You just sit beside the fire and take it easy, like every injured person is supposed to do.” 

“And I’m sure that’s exactly what you do when you’re injured, isn’t it?” Kankuro declares, taking advantage of his momentary surprise to continue onwards. “I’m more than capable of helping you fill up some canteens with water.” 

Kiba grimaces, resolving himself to his next, admittedly very childish action.

“Fine, but you’ll have to catch me first!”

“Hey!” Kankuro shouts, but Kiba is already racing down the slope to the water. “Get back here and let me help you, you bastard!”

Kiba skids to a halt at the edge of the river, cold water lapping at his ankles as he catches his breath. From behind, he can hear Kankuro letting out a stream of swears as he swiftly approaches. 

“Hey, asshole!” 

Kiba’s grip tightens around the canteens as Kankuro closes the gap between them, inching further out into the river. 

Doing anything other than pick up his own speed would be an affront to his pride, so that is exactly what he does. Well, that and the only other thing he can do. He braces for imminent impact.

A shout nearly breaks his eardrums, but Kiba is far more concerned with the arms clutched around his shoulders and his feet slipping on the wet rocks beneath him. His hands shoot out to catch his fall, but it isn’t quite enough. Nothing would be enough to brace him for the shock of cold water hitting his face or the warm body above him. Kankuro’s warm, toned body above him.

Kiba sputters just as his head goes underneath the water and he manages to turn himself around, hands just barely gripping onto the rocks. 

“What the fuck was that about?” he demands, overtly aware of Kankuro all but sitting in his lap. 

Kankuro rolls his eyes. “As if I was going to let you insult me like that.” 

Kiba opens his mouth to retort, just in time for him to spot the purple face paint smeared across Kankuro’s face. Laughter comes out in place of words, and he automatically reaches up to start rubbing it away, little rivulets of water dripping down from the sopping mess that is Kankuro’s hair. 

He isn’t much help though. All he really does is manage to smudge the purple paint under his eyes, getting his fingers covered in the process. Not that he notices or cares. His heart is beating a mile a minute in his chest when he stops and realizes what he’s just been doing. 

Kankuro reaches up to put his hands over Kiba’s, the heat spreading down into his arms. The silence is deafening as they look directly into each other’s eyes, only a few inches separating them. 

Kiba can’t help himself. He slowly starts to lean in, closing the distance between their lips, but at the last moment, Kankuro mutters, “Fuck you!” as he grabs the back of Kiba’s neck, dragging him the rest of the way.

It’s difficult to tell whether Kiba wants to laugh or kiss the bastard back, so he settles for both. He surges forwards, laughing against Kankuro’s lips as that heat threatens to consume him. He pulls back just enough to kiss Kankuro again, and again, and again, each time one of them swearing before leaning back in.

When Kiba’s lungs feel like they’re going to explode, Kankuro finally releases the iron grip on his neck, but he doesn’t let go entirely. As they both catch their breath, the corners of Kankuro’s lips turn into a smile, but he grumbles, “You still smell like wet dog though.”

The following, high-pitched cackling from somewhere in the bushes across the river is enough to make both of them flail backwards, plunging themselves back into the cold water.

“Temari, god damn it! I will fucking kill you!”


	9. "We have so much blackmail material, Izumo."

“Hey, hey Izumo!” Kotetsu snickers as he glances sideways at the two sopping wet shinobi, not even bothering to be discrete in the least. “What’s a jounin who can’t block?” 

“I don’t know, Kotetsu. An idiot?” 

Shikamaru sighs, trying his best to ignore the steam rising from Kiba’s head. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near him when he blows.

“Good one, Izumo!” Kotetsu huffs, leaning onto the other’s shoulder as he dramatically wipes a fake tear from his eye, side glancing the two fuming shinobi again.

“Oh, wait. Maybe they aren’t idiots-” 

“Thank you!” Kiba interrupts, angrily. 

“Maybe they’re just _fools for love_.” 

“Agh!” 

Neither Izumo or Kotetsu’s cackling is making Kiba pull his hand away from Kankuro’s though, Shikamaru notes with a roll of his eyes. Maybe he will once he actually tries strangling the two chunin, but Shikamaru has the feeling that Kankuro will only help him in that particular endeavor. 

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Temari cuts in, “They’re not wrong. Unless you care to explain what the two of you were doing in that river?” 

Kankuro inhales sharply. “I already told you! We were just - arguing over who got to fill up the canteens!”

“By putting your tongue in his mouth?” 

“Can we please just have a few minutes of silence? I can’t even hear myself think.” Shikamaru shakes his head, hands tucked into his pockets, fist gripped around a small box.

“Thank you,” Baki grumbles, shooting Temari a look that could kill. 

“Well, I think it’s sweet-” Chouji starts.

“Please!” Kiba cuts him off abruptly. “If anything, it was manly.”

“Right,” Izumo counters, “manly _love_!”

“I swear if either of you say another word about that fucking river, I will throw you into the next river we come across!” Kankuro snaps, turning his head to glower at them. 

“Oh sure, and a threat like that coming from a shinobi who can’t even fight off two chunin is supposed to scare me?”

“Kotetsu, you sly bastard.” Izumo laughs, his smirk only growing. “Remind me of this the next time we’re at the village gates and have to let one of these two love fools through, will you?” 

Shikamaru flinches at the guttural sound emanating from Kiba’s scrunched face. Even Akamaru’s ears turn away from this pointless conversation, though his tail is still wagging lazily. Actually, he looks quite smug for some reason. 

“Oh, trust me, I will,” Kotetsu says, all too proud of himself. 

“Alright!” Kankuro turns around to face the two of them, his scowl firmly etched into his face. “What exactly do you two want us to say? That we were kissing in a fucking river? That you two played us for fools? Or maybe that my sister is the top mastermind behind this all, just setting up the right moment to get some blackmail on me?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say I did it just for the blackmail,” Temari cuts in. “I do genuinely care for you, Kankuro. You are my little brother, and after the time I found you behind the Kazekage’s building-” 

“That’s it!” 

“Oh! We’re gonna get some dirt on Kankuro! Pay attention, Kotetsu!”

Kankuro groans and starts pulling Kiba down the path, almost running to get away from all of them. As soon as he’s a good distance away, Izumo and Kotetsu burst out into laughter, making their true goal of all the teasing apparent. Nobody can deny that the two men are holding hands now. 

Rolling his eyes for what must be the hundredth time this afternoon, Shikamaru grabs Temari’s hand, ignoring the way his cheeks heat as she looks over at him in surprise. 

“About damn time,” Temari snickers, squeezing back lightly.

From behind him, he can hear the distinct sounds of a chip bag being opened, and Shikamaru raises his eyes to the afternoon sky, watching a cloud pass over the sun. He’s trying to hide the reluctant smile turning up the corners of his lips. 

Today is going to be the day that he finally does it. Sure, Shikamaru has told himself this nearly a dozen times over, but none of those days felt quite right. None of those days were today. Even if he has his best friend and Temari’s former sensei walking awkwardly behind them. Not to mention Kotetsu and Izumo who are guaranteed to tell the entire village as soon as they get back. 

He lets out a breath, chuckling as he looks over at Temari. “I can’t believe your insane plan actually worked. I don’t know whether to be horrified or amazed.”

“Amazed, obviously. But I thought you weren’t interested in helping me pull their heads out of their asses,” she says, quietly. 

“I don’t particularly care about that, and it’s a drag, but I care. About you.” Shikamaru tightens his hold on the box in his pocket. 

“And here I didn’t take you for the romantic type.” 

Shikamaru halts, just as he’s about to respond to Temari’s snarky comment, because there is no mistaking the two idiots just ahead of the bend in the road. And right now they just happen to be two idiots tugging a canteen back and forth between them, their insults getting more and creative with each passing second. Within a few days, Shikamaru probably won’t be able to tell the insults from the pet names. 

But there is no mistaking the fork in the road here. One direction goes southwest to Suna and the other northeast to Konoha, just as it always has. Now or never is the name of the game. 

“Temari, are you ready to leave?” Baki asks, tersely. 

“What? I’m headed back to Konoha with the rest of them,” she says. 

“No.” Baki scowls at the two of them, refusing to be budged. “Someone has to explain to Gaara why his top jounin have been mysteriously missing from the village for the better part of two weeks. And that someone is you.” 

“Oh God,” Temari whines, making puppy dog eyes at Baki unsuccessfully, “you wouldn’t make me do that, would you, sensei?”

Temari’s face falls when Baki merely snorts in response, turning towards the southeastern path, not even bothering to look back.

“Fine, but you know he’s going to find a way to turn this whole thing into one of his shitty love poems. And I won’t be sticking around to hear him recite it.”

“Oh, what’s this I hear? Love poems?” Izumo cackles, nudging Kotetsu with their linked hands.

“We have so much blackmail material, Izumo. I would call this mission a success!” 

Baki progresses further down the path, soundly ignoring them all. Beside Temari, Shikamaru tenses. It has to be now. 

Temari sighs and turns towards him. “I want you to know now that I didn’t want to do it like this.” 

“I - what?” Shikamaru splutters. 

She rolls her eyes at him and pulls something out of her pocket. A small, rounded box that she easily opens up to reveal a pair of earrings. 

His mouth goes dry, as she starts to explain. “Your clan doesn’t do the whole rings thing, does it? That’s why I got these made instead, so that when I asked you to marry me, I’d at least have something appropriate to give you.” 

Shikamaru tries to speak, but his brain is buzzing. He can’t seem to formulate a sentence. This has never been an issue for him before. 

“Come on,” she says, awkwardly laughing. “You have to say something.”

But after his moment of panic, he starts to chuckle. “I worked out a thousand different variations of how this could go, and what I would do or say depending on the circumstances… I had hundreds of scenarios worked out. But this was not one of them.”

“Wait, what? When?” Temari stares at him, unblinking.

“When I proposed to you.” He pulls the box out of his pocket, opening it up to reveal a pair of small, gold hoop earrings, twinkling in the fading light. 

“Oh shit!” Kotetsu exclaims, latching onto Izumo’s side, “Plot twist!” 

“I win!” Temari beams at Shikamaru, triumph glittering in her eyes, a smug smile on her face.

“You… win?”

“Well, obviously, because I beat you to it! So what do you say? It’s rude to keep a girl waiting, you know.”

He laughs, no longer holding back his grin. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Will you marry me?” 

“Isn’t that obvious already, Shika?” 

He leans in to kiss that ridiculously smug smile right off her face, ignoring how Izumo and Kotetsu mockingly gasp. 

Baki awkwardly clears his throat. “Not to be rude, but Temari, this doesn’t get you out of that conversation with Gaara. And will someone please separate those two idiots before they kill themselves?” He says, looking over in Kankuro and Kiba’s direction, where they are, in fact, still bickering over the same canteen. They haven’t even noticed yet.

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Kotetsu sighs, gazing over at the two wrestling shinobi. 

Izumo snorts. “You’re not in love? Am I just chopped liver over here?” 

“Oh hush, you. We’re like the old married couple of this group. I’m allowed to say things like this.”

Kankuro pauses, frowning at the rest of the group. “Did I… miss something?” 

“A lot,” Kotetsu says, snickering. “Definitely a lot.”


	10. Epilogue: “Please, for the love of all that is good and pure in the world, promise me that the two of you will not procreate!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sorry? Hope you enjoyed!

“Uncle Kanki! Uncle Kanki!”

“Uh,” Kankuro starts, unsure whether Mirai is addressing him or Kiba. “You talking to me?”

At his words, Mirai leaps into his lap, knocking the air out of his lungs. “Puppet show! Puppet show!”

From his side, Kiba snickers, but Kankuro, being the bigger person that he is, chooses to ignore it. 

There is also a large possibility that ignoring Kiba is easier while he’s trying to figure out what to do about the toddler perched on his lap, beaming up at him. A quick glance around the room reveals that her mother is busy talking to one of her other students, entirely immersed in the conversation and unavailable to save him from the child. And it doesn’t look like Kiba has any intentions of helping him.

“That’s not what they’re for, Mirai. They’re dangerous shinobi tools. I can’t let you play with them. They’re not toys.”

“Pft,” Temari laughs, startling Kankuro, who hadn’t noticed that she was standing behind the couch. 

Mirai stares up at him, the corners of her lips turning downwards. “Why not, Uncle Kanki? I’m going to be a shinobi soon, anyways!” 

“And no student of mine will be trained in puppetry,” Shikamaru cuts in. The straight line of his mouth seems far more serious than the situation calls for. “They’re too dangerous for a kid your age to train with.”

“Dad alert!”

Cackling erupts from the other side of the room, where Izumo is laying with his head in Kotetsu’s lap, taking up the entire other couch even though there are plenty of other people standing around. 

Temari hums, considering, the lingering look she gives Shikamaru more than enough to make Kankuro squeeze his eyes shut in denial. “Well, someone has to keep the kids safe, don’t they? I can’t think of a better candidate than worry-wort Shikamaru Nara.” 

“Hey,” Shikamaru grunts, scowling over at her, “at least I’m not ball-and-chain Temari Nara.”

“Woah there, buddy,” Kankuro mutters, looking over at Shikamaru. “She’s vicious, you know. I wouldn’t piss her off if I were you. You gotta treat your wife right.”

“Mhm,” Kiba agrees, nudging Kankuro with his elbow. “Take Kankuro and me for example. I treat him right-”

“Wait,” Kankuro interrupts with gritted teeth, “am I the wife in this scenario?”

“Well, of course,” Kotetsu intervenes from across the room.

“What the hell-”

“You do have a point,” Kiba says, nodding in agreement, even as Kankuro turns to scowl at him. “Kankuro is the one who can cook. And you know, when we’re in bed, there’s this thing-” 

“Would you _stop talking_ already? Even if there weren’t an actual child on my lap right now, my sister is right behind us! Talking to us! Do you not remember what happened the last time you gave her blackmail material?” Kankuro snaps. 

“Well, we didn’t have to work for weeks,” Izumo says, still lounging against Kotetsu. As if he could get any lazier. 

“And you wonder why Konoha has been attacked so many times,” Kankuro mutters, more to himself than to the rest of the room. They’re all ganging up on him anyways. Just because he’s the newest member of the group doesn’t mean that he should always be the brunt of the jokes. He’s been with Kiba for two damn years.

A sharp tug at his shirt collar makes him flail, the loud bark of laughter to his right far more distracting than Mirai demanding his attention. But she doesn’t look like she’s just going to let him ignore her anytime soon. And there are more than a few benefits to sticking around until the end of her birthday party.

“Yes, Mirai?” he asks, hesitant. 

She narrows her eyes at him, holding all of her mother’s confidence in that moment. “I still want a puppet show!” 

“But-” 

“It’s my birthday!”

“Mirai,” Shikamaru drawls from behind the couch.

She peeks over the edge of the cushions, her eyes big.

“What do you say to us going out to the park with Akamaru for a little bit instead?”

Kankuro holds in a few choice swares as Mirai squeals, clambering over him to get to Shikamaru. “Doggie! Doggie!” 

“Ah, yes, we see it again folks. Daddy Nara at work.”

“Oh, Kotetsu, you slay me.”

“Speaking of,” Kiba cuts in, smoothly ignoring their commentary, “When exactly am I going to become an uncle, you guys?” 

Kankuro snorts, even as a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “He keeps going on and on about how he misses spending time with the kids.” 

“Traitor,” Kiba mutters.

The kick he delivers to Kankuro’s ankle is more than enough to make him grit his teeth, but not enough to make him drop the subject. “Yeah, yeah. As if you weren’t the one who immediately gravitated towards Mirai as soon as we got here.” 

“No, she gravitated towards me! You’re just jealous, because she clearly likes me more than she likes you.” 

Kankuro pauses and glances over at where Mirai has folded herself into Shikamaru’s arms. As if that hadn’t been sickly sweet enough, a look over his shoulder confirms the ridiculously soft expression on his sister’s face. Gross, all around.

“Uncle Kanki? When are you and Uncle Aki going to have a baby?”

Kankuro’s lucky that the burst of laughter emanating from the other couch is enough to distract most of them from the flush on his face. Next to him, Kiba tenses noticeably. 

Kankuro is opening his mouth to respond when Kiba reaches over and takes his hand, squeezing lightly. “Oh, not for a while, at least.”

“Uh, Kiba,” Kankuro starts awkwardly. “You realize that we can’t actually-”

“You can’t?” Mirai asks, her face scrunched up in a pout. “But why?”

“Well,” Shikamaru starts.

“Oh, nevermind!” she announces proudly, “It’s because they would have too many colours on their faces! Mommy, what colour does it make when you mix red and purple?”

“Oh my god,” Kotetsu chortles, “Kids are great. We should get some, Izumo.”

“Yeah, we would be great dads!”

“Please, for the love of all that is good and pure in the world, promise me that the two of you will not procreate!” Kiba yells.

Izumo and Kotetsu pause to exchange a heavy look, amusement radiating from them. “Kiba,” Kotetsu starts. “Do we have to teach you about the birds and the bees? I mean, your mother should have told you where children come from a long time ago, but we’re more than willing to go over it with you again.” 

“Would anyone here even care if I took these guys out right now?” Kankuro asks to the room at large. 

“You wound me, Kankuro. Truly, I’m wounded by this.”

“Kiba, how could you let your boyfriend speak to Kotetsu in such a way?”

“Oh,” Kiba says, leaning over to rest his head on Kankuro’s shoulder, “I love you, but let’s ditch these assholes.”


End file.
